


Waiting for the inevitable

by Ninhaoma



Series: Dressrosa [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Comfort Sex, Cunnilingus, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Nightmares, PWP, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:54:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23500078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninhaoma/pseuds/Ninhaoma
Summary: Two one-shots featuring my favourite Dressrosan pairing.I wrote both a roughly the same time and had quite a hard time deciding which to publish first. But, as Doflamingo is a heartless, ruthless bastard who doesn't hesitate to kill anyone who he perceives as having betrayed him, I decided to go with the current order of business. He's not a nice man at all, even though he has his nightmares.
Relationships: Donquixote Doflamingo/Violet
Series: Dressrosa [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1751851
Comments: 16
Kudos: 44





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Violet is just taking a breather from Doflamingo's celebrations. But she knows the solitude can't last forever…
> 
> Just a quick idea that popped into my head when re-reading One Piece, based on events in chapter 788 and Oda's confirmation in volume 83's SBS.
> 
> Read at you own peril, consent is very dubious. I do not condone such relationships: this is purely fiction.

Violet was alone. That was not very unusual on a normal day, but as today was a very special day, she really should have been with the others. She would probably pay for it later on, but for the moment she just enjoyed the quiet and the stars.

The evening was uncommonly cold for the warmth usually surrounding Dressrosa. A shudder raced up her spine – she should have brought her mantilla, but couldn’t force herself to that, not today. It was a beautiful piece of Dressrosan artisanship and had been a gift, but it had felt wrong to wear it today when all the others were gathered to celebrate the anniversary of Doflamingo’s ascension to the throne. She just couldn’t wear it, however beautiful and soft and warm it was.

Soft, familiar, steps approached her from the archway leading into the castle proper. She didn’t bother to turn around.

She had known that she would be found.

“You are a masochist, Violet, that’s the only reason I can think of for you to torture yourself out in the cold, while the party is going on inside,” she heard the ever-present smile in his voice, as he wrapped his pink-feathered coat around her, letting his hands rest on her shoulders.

His hands were surprisingly warm for such a cold and arrogant person. And large – but his whole persona was larger than life, oozing charm like Trebol oozed mucus.

“Good thing then that you’re a sadist,” she answered, leaning on the parapet, never breaking her gaze over the city. “I’ll never go without my kicks.”

“You’re not using your scarf.”

“It doesn’t match my dress,” she shrugged, pulling the coat close. It was a too soft. She could live in this coat.

“You could have chosen another dress.”

She shrugged again, feeling his hands move with the movement.

“The women at Carta worked hard on that.”

“Then you could have had them work hard in colours that would suit my wardrobe.”

“I missed you at the party,” he breathed in her ear as he started to rub her shoulders.

“Sure you did,” she answered, leaning back and enjoying the ministrations. However horrible the man was, he did know how to give a good massage. “Isn’t the princess from Flower Island here tonight?”

“Fufufufu,” she felt the rumbling in his chest. “She’s pretty, true that, but nowhere as fiery as you, my dear.”

“And still you resist all my efforts to burn you to the ground, my love,” she answered. His hands had started to move down her arms and over her neck.

“A game isn’t very much fun with only one participant, wouldn’t you agree? I only survive to keep you happy.”

“A game doesn’t have a predetermined winner; if it has that, it isn’t a game anymore, is it?”

“This game doesn’t have a predetermined winner, love. Anything can happen and even the best laid plans can be overthrown by luck or happenstance. Nothing is certain before the end.”

“Except you plans, it would seem.”

“Fufufufufu,” his hands were now stroking her hips. She felt him stand behind her, pressed close. “It is true that my plans usually bear the fruit I expect from them. But then of course, I am what I am.”

“A sadist, as we just established.”

“You do know I’d never accept such words from anyone else, love?” His wandering hands tightened their grip on her hips for a second, before they continued their leisurely roaming.

“How could I forget as you keep reminding me every opportunity you get. But we both also know that you’d never kill me.”

“Fufufu, how right you are, my all-seeing raven. You do have your arguments in place. And your charms.”

One hand suddenly pressed down on her lower back, forcing her to lean down on the parapet. The stone still held some of the warmth of the day as it pressed against her cheek and her now outstretched arms. The other hand continued its lazy travels, caressing her ass, now pressed tightly against his crotch. She felt his growing excitement through her dress, snuggly fitting between her ass cheeks. Suddenly, a hard slap landed on her left cheek. A startled gasp escaped her as she felt her back arch, rubbing against him. Another slap, a bit harder, landed on the right side. She felt the texture of the dress chafing against her back as the third slap moved the dress a bit. She was now standing almost on her toes, his hand still pressing her upper body into the cooling stone. She felt wetness starting to pool between her legs, anticipating what was to come. His other hand started to gather up the material of her dress, stroking her legs as he went. She knew it was useless to argue, to try to get him to move somewhere a bit more secluded. He never listened. Those arguments of hers were apparently not in place.

The cool night air was buffeted by a breeze, making goose bumps break out over her newly exposed skin.

“Fufufu, told you, you should have worn the mantilla,” he smiled, caressing her bare legs, “Here you are now, freezing in the evening air.”

“And I told you, it doesn’t suit my dress,” she replied, widening her stance a bit, giving him better access. “A dressrosan is always impeccably dressed.”

She felt his large fingers stroke the insides of her right leg, moving closer to her centre, stroke by stroke. She couldn’t help the shiver of anticipation that crept over her.

“My dear, you are always impeccably dressed. I honestly believe that you could make anything look breath-taking,” he murmured, leaning over her and sliding one finger over her slit, playing with her nub. Her breathing became faster and she felt a blush starting to spread. She had to press her hands down into the stone to keep them still. She knew how he hated it when she didn’t follow his rules. “Oh my. You do always come… prepared, my dear,” he said, leaving a trail of kisses along her bared shoulder, slipping the finger inside her, roughly stroking her back with his other hand while still keeping her pressed down.

“There is a reason I didn’t wear panties, honey,” she answered breathlessly, trying not to squirm under his ministrations.

“Oh yes. I think I forbade you from doing that?” he smiled as he inserted another finger, curling the digits inside her at just the right spot and _how_ did he always find it on the first try? Violet felt her eyes fluttering shut against her will, the stone anchoring her to reality, reminding her that the feelings he was creating were a part of reality, not apart from it, not on another plane of pleasure. He was a man, not a god, never mind what his underlings kept telling him of destiny and kingship. He was a man and damn good at what he was doing right this moment.

“So you did,” she breathed, spreading her legs even wider as he inserted a third digit and increased the pace. His hand that had previously pressed down on her lower back moved to the top of her shoulders, encircling her neck and pressing down even harder, constricting her breathing somewhat. She felt desire pulse through her as her breathing quickened, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed by the man playing with her.

“Eager are we, love?” he purred in her ear, quickening the pace of his fingers inside her.

“I don’t think I’m the only one,” she breathed, pushing her arse against him. She felt the effect the moment had on him; he was straining against his trousers.

His laugh rang out over the empty courtyard below them as his fingers slowed down, withdrawing from her and leaving her empty and cold. “You know me so well, love,” he smiled, as she heard the rustle of him opening his trousers. Without warning he plunged into her, still keeping her pressed against the stone with one hand. She gasped, feeling him fill her up, withdrawing, and plunging in again. The pace he set was fast and brutal, but not out of the ordinary. She felt a slow burn start between her legs, heightened by the pressure on her back, the coolness of the stone, the pure energy in the air. It felt indescribable. The precise thrusts of the large man’s hips were pressing her thighs into the sharp corner of the parapet, while his other hand kept her perfectly still, in place, where he wanted her. The burning became pulsing, spreading from between her legs to her stomach, making her legs and arms tingle.

She heard his breathing become more jagged, felt the pace get a bit erratic. His free hand suddenly snaked between her legs and started to play with her clit. Violet couldn’t resist any more as a low moan escaped from her, her sweat-slicked hands scrabbling to find a hold of the smooth stone. Damn him, damn this man for doing this to her.

“Will you come for me, love?” he breathed in her ear, increasing his pace. It was funny how he only seemed to lose the ever-present smile when he was deep inside her. But for now, she could hardly concentrate on what he was saying as pleasure rocked through her body, waiting for the last push over the edge.

“Only if you come at the same time,” she answered, clenching her internal muscles, receiving a drawn-out groan as her prize. He was a man, he had human feelings. Sometimes. But he was a man and all humans could feel the same pleasure. She clenched her muscles again, receiving a slap on her arse as a reward, making her gasp and arch her back again to provide a better reach for his thrusts. She was so close, _so_ close…

“Always,” he promised, pressing a digit against her puckered hole while he deepened his furious pumping even more.

Violets vision erupted in light and stars. As wave after wave of intense orgasm flowed through her, she pressed, and was pressed, against the parapet, feeling his uneven movements inside her as he reached his peak at the same time. She could live in this moment forever, this moment of pure bliss, of forgetfulness and stillness, where the only thing that existed was the feeling of him in her, of the pleasure coursing through her veins.

A moment of stillness. A moment of bliss.

A moment that was broken by his withdrawal and the feeling of her dress being lowered back, the loss of pressure on her neck.

She straightened up, still facing towards the distant city. The smell of sex was heady, overpowering even the red carnations, native to the land.

“You can return the coat when you’re warm again,” she heard the smile return as a soft kiss was planted on the top of her head. Then the soft steps retreated towards the party. Towards his party.

How Violet hated Donquixote Doflamingo.


	2. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When someone is having a nightmare, the kind thing is to wake them up. The decent thing after that, however, is to ensure they can sleep for the rest of the night…
> 
> Inspired by chapter 763.

Violet woke with a gasp, sitting up in bed. The soft linen had become tangled round her legs, constricting her movement while her pillow had disappeared.

A sense of uneasiness crept over her. What had woken her?

A soft breeze made the gauze curtains flutter, bringing in the heady smell of the night flowers that were planted in the little garden outside her room. The air was cool, and the only source of light was a gibbous moon that was sinking below the treetops.

A sudden movement beside her made her instinctively reach for the dagger she had hidden behind her headboard, but she halted her movements. She’d almost forgotten that he had joined her again last night. The realisation invigorated the ache between her legs and the ache in her back – although he had been almost gentle, it was still always an exercise to spend an evening with Doflamingo.

The movement ceased as quickly as it had started as the large man rolled over, offering Violet a rare moment to just observe.

Donquixote Doflamingo was a striking man. Well-defined muscles moved with his breathing, the moonlight almost making him shimmer. His blond hair, rebelling against gravity, moved slightly in the breeze and he looked almost peaceful, lying with the sheet bunched around his waist. One strong arm was almost falling of the bed, while the other was thrown over his eyes. His breathing–

His breathing. That was what had woken her.

The normal even breaths of deep sleep had changed, and came faster, shallower. A slight sheen of sweat had broken out, making him shine in the moonlight. His hands were clenching and unclenching, while his leg was jerking under the cover. Small muscle contractions in his chest made his whole torso tremble.

Violet sighed. One of his nightmares.

She leaned over him, resting on her left hand, shaking him softly.

“Doffy,” she shook him gently. “Doffy, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”

The man didn’t react, but the hand that had just been on the edge of falling off the bed grabbed at the bedding, while his head turned from side to side, the other arm pressing down over his face.

“Doffy,” her shaking became more forceful. It was best to try and rouse him before the nightmare had gone on too long; those times he could usually fall asleep again. If the nightmare got a hold of him, he’d be unable to sleep for the rest of the night, resulting in a horrible mood the next day. “Doffy, wake up.”

The large man scarcely moved under her tries to wake him. She sat up straighter and put both hands on his chest, putting all her weight behind her efforts.

“Doffy!”

Gasping, the warlord sat up, grabbing her arm as he did so, dragging her towards him. Shooting pain coursed through her arm in the twist he managed to put her in, and Violet couldn’t help a pained gasp. This seemed to wake him properly, as he loosened his grip and instead enveloped her in a hug. She wrapped her arms around him, ignoring the slight burn tingling through her arm, stroking his back as she leaned her head against his shoulder.

They sat together for a moment, the fading moonlight slowly shrouding the room in darkness. Soon the sun would rise, but for the moment, darkness reigned.

A sigh reverberated through his chest.

“I thought they’d become rarer?” Violet murmured against his chest. His embrace tightened a bit, one hand wrapping more securely around her lower back, dragging her even closer to him.

“They did. That’s the first one in almost six months,” he answered, absentmindedly playing with a lock of her hair. She should get it cut soon, it started to become too long again.

She hummed.

“You do know what that means, don’t you?”

She felt more than heard his huffing laugh.

“Whatever do you mean, my flower?”

She pressed away from his embrace a bit to be able to look into his face, smirking slightly.

“It’s been six months since you slept with me. Must have been doing you good.”

His rich baritone laugh echoed in the room.

“On the contrary, love. I do believe it made me bottle things up, just so that I could be woken up by you.”

She tugged slightly at his hair, still smirking. “Well, following that logic, if you never want to have nightmares again, you should just never sleep with me again. And keep bottling it up for the rest of your days.”

A matching smirk spread across his features, and his embrace moved decidedly lower.

“Or then I should just never sleep anywhere else than here and always be woken up by you.”

Violet let her hands start to roam, taking in his broad back, shifting slightly in his lap so that she had one leg on either side of him. Her bedding had been left on her side of the bed, and she could feel his rising interest through the sheet still tangled around his waist.

“I see some other things are waking up as well. If we keep this up, we’ll be horribly tired tomorrow.”

Doflamingo smirked up at her, stroking her legs and shifting slightly, brushing against her core, eliciting a moan. “Well, I’m sure I can arrange something with the boss, we are on rather good terms, you know.”

Violet felt her breath become heavier. It was amazing what influence the man had on her, his personality be damned. He knew just the right buttons to push to make her squirm and obey his every command, both in the bedroom and outside of it. She moved slightly, noting the hitch in his breath as she brushed against him.

“You make a rather good point, but I’d still like to make sure that the boss is happy,” she murmured, dragging her nails down his chest and moving downwards, shifting the sheet. “I’m on quite good terms with him myself, and I know there’s one thing that really makes his day…”

With those words, she freed him from the linen prison, letting his manhood spring free. It continued to amaze her, even though she’d been intimately acquainted with it for quite some time already. Long and thick, it pulsed in the waning moonlight, a drop of pre-cum coating the top. Violet let her hand travel up it slowly, enjoying the silky sensation of skin stretched taut. Applying slight pressure, she set a slow pace, pumping her hand up and down. She always enjoyed this moment; the anticipation, the expectation, the _certainty_ that it was going to be good for the other party. She looked up at him through her eyelashes, varying the pressure on the down stroke. It was a heady feeling, having this man’s focus concentrated entirely on you. His usual smile had disappeared, the muscles in his neck tightening. His gaze was focused on her and her ministrations. She gave him a small smirk and licked him, from bottom to top, until the drop of pre-cum. She took the top of his penis in her mouth, laving at it with her tongue, while keeping up the rhythm of her hand. Her free hand pressed down his hips, slightly scratching. She heard his breath catch as she took him even deeper, pressing the underside of his shaft with her tongue.

As she increased the pace, she felt his hand nestle in her hair, pressing her down a bit further. His breathing had become shallow, and she elicited a groan by an especially concentrated movement, swallowing him as far as she could take him. She felt tears well up in her eyes as he hit the back of her throat, but he didn’t release the pressure, simply kept her there, thrusting into her mouth. Suddenly she felt him freeze, followed by a sigh as she felt his ejaculation hit the back of her throat.

After he was spent, she licked him clean and crawled up to him. Donquixote wrapped one arm around her and pulled her close, placing a soft kiss on her temple. Violet swatted his chest.

“You know I don’t have anything against swallowing,” she said, twisting his nipple a bit, enjoying the hitched breath that caused, “but I do rather resent you using my mouth as a toy.”

“Fufufufu. You’re right,” he smiled, withdrawing his arm and shifting so that he caged her between his arms. “I’m sorry love, I’ll make it up to you,” he murmured, placing butterfly kisses on her neck, continuing down her chest. He licked at one of her breasts, softly caressing the other, before continuing his journey downwards. She moaned as he nipped at the juncture between her hip and her pelvis and grabbed at the bedding as he placed a kiss on the inside of her thigh, the next one on the top of her vagina, slightly scraping at her clit with his teeth.

“So wet for me,” he murmured, stroking her softly with talented fingers. “Did sucking me off make you wet, love?”

“You know it does,” she moaned, arching her back and grinding her heels into the mattress under his talented fingers.

Violet felt her eyes flutter shut as she felt him suddenly _lick_ up her slit with that amazing tongue of his. He slid her leg up over his shoulder, opening her up to his attentions, while a large hand pressed down on her stomach, keeping her in place. Her hands clenched in the sheet by their own volition as her legs spread wider to allow him better access. She felt euphoric as he teased and nibbled her clit, and her back arched as he inserted two fingers in her, finding the perfect rhythm. She could feel the familiar warmth starting to build in her belly as he kept up a perfect pace of tongue, fingers, and small nips at the sensitive skin surrounding her slit. As he inserted a third finger and _curled_ them, combined with a perfect flick with his tongue at her clit, she felt her focus starting to crack.

“Oh yes, please, just a bit more, _just_ like that…” she gasped, feeling her legs start to tense up and her back arching against his iron grip on her stomach. And Doflamingo was nothing if not a gentleman in bed: he kept up the precise rhythm and Violet felt her world erupt as her orgasm washed over her, wave after wave of pure pleasure.

She could feel him smile against her core as he gave her a last kiss and nipped at her inner thigh before crawling up and dragging her against him in a hug.

“That was amazing,” she murmured and curled up in his arms, feeling sleepiness wash over her.

“Likewise, my dear,” he smiled, pressing another kiss against her temple. “Sleep well.”

“Likewise, my dear,” she echoed back and let her eyes fall shut. “Hope you can sleep the rest of the night.”

“After this, how could I not,” he smiled, tightening his hold on her.

Violet soon heard his breathing even out, as a jaw-cracking yawn escaped her. There were worse things to wake up to in the middle of the night.

His nightmares, for a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am trash. DoffyViolet-trash. Dolet? Vioflamingo? Doersn't matter, I still ship it.
> 
> So, I wrote the previous ficlet and this one at roughly the same time and had quite a hard time deciding which to publish first. But, as Doflamingo is a heartless, ruthless bastard who doesn't hesitate to kill anyone who he perceives as having betrayed him, I thought the previous fic would be a good introduction of sorts. He's not a nice man at all, even though he has his nightmares.

**Author's Note:**

> As the relationship could never be equal (she being forced into his pirate crew and doing his bidding in order to save her father), the consent here is very, very dubious. This fic is in no way meant to endorse that kind of relationships. It's just a writing exercise I wanted to share with the world.


End file.
